Movement
by ernststiefel
Summary: Ernst moves to another new town and finds friendship and understanding in the only person who will even recognize his presence, the jumpy and confused Moritz.
1. Chapter 1

I awoke to my mother shaking my side violently. The train continued to roll on as my eyes adjusted to the very bright light. The sun was up now and it was shining brightly, it rolled down the hills that had farmland running for miles. Just farms that's all there was, no more city and having many houses and buildings in every direction you turn.

Half an hour passed by and we were finally in the main city for the area, if you can even call it that, it's really small compared to Berlin. Mother and I grabbed all the bags that we brought and headed for the station exit. Father was waiting for us in the parking lot, he had driven up before us with the moving van to make sure that we didn't lose anything or have it stolen like we have in past moves.

All of us hopped in our very small and very old station wagon and started on another hour long venture. I always hated this car, it was extremely uncomfortable, and the seats pretty much felt like rocks but those may be even softer than these. The view outside became farms and vineyards once more before changing once again into the suburbs. I am not at all happy to be living in a place where nothing ever happens, I like the liveliness the city has to offer. There's always something new to do or discover around every corner, and well here people get excited when a new chain restaurant opens up in the local strip mall.

The car stopped and I got out of the death car, looked at the house in front of me and sighed. First off it was a house; I haven't lived in one since I was about six. Also it's in a neighborhood, where there is at least six other replicas of this nearby, nothing is original here and from the outside there is not anything that defines brilliant architecture. Then with all that I had I went inside my very own copy house. The only thing that made me happy was that it was decorated similarly to the apartment that we were living in previously to this.

Suddenly from across the house my mother called out, "Ernst, get over here and start unpacking your stuff!"

I went and obeyed, this room was a perfect square with a closet on the right side of the door and a window overlooking the street on the left. Boxes labeled Ernst were scattered across the floor and my bed was set up on the middle of the back wall. I then began the very long process of taking things out of boxes, which surprisingly is much worse than putting things in them.

Once an hour had passed I was done for the day, having gotten through all of my clothes, books, and art items, I decided that a nap was necessary. I changed into some more comfortable clothes and jump into my bed. It finally hit me that I was entirely alone here; nobody cares about me except for my parents. On top of all that I'm living in suburbia my nightmare is officially real. I stop myself there and force myself to sleep before I'm even sadder than I was previously. Before long the world and the sounds around me fade away and finally, I'm calm.

The sound of my mother screaming my name brought me back to consciousness. It's now 6:00 in the morning, Monday, and I have to go to school in an hour. How in the world did I forget about that? This school was a private, all boys' school and it's highly focused around religion. I don't really know how to talk with guys, it's never been one of my strong suits, I always just talked to girls, and they were just calmer and had much less fighting involved with them. Also we have uniforms here, don't get me wrong I love wearing suits, but not every day.

After much internal fighting over which suit to wear, how to do my hair because it hates me, and how to escape this day, which I came up with nothing besides death. I got dressed, brushed my teeth and headed out for the mile long walk to school because of course there aren't any buses here either. Soon enough I'm there at school. I look up at the tall building, take a deep breath, and enter into another new life for myself. I hope that this one is finally good.


	2. Chapter 2

_The talks you never had,_

_The Saturdays you never spent_

_All the grown-up places_

_You never went_

I am a Stiefel, strong, proud and successful. I am a Stiefel, so I will not fail. I won't give up, and I'll keep marching forward. I am strong, I am proud; I will succeed, no matter what.

So, will the God I pray to every day please tell me why I, a Stiefel, cannot answer this Latin question?

"Moritz Stiefel, I asked you to recite the beginning of the Aeneid. Are you so daft that you can't even recite this simple phrase?" my teacher asked, his voice rising like my fathers.

"I…I don't know sir," I stuttered, trying to shrink myself as small as possible. Maybe if I really tried, I would disappear, and not have to worry about Latin or arithmetic or….

"You _what?_" My teacher's voice was dangerously soft, and I knew that no matter how much I tried, I wasn't going to disappear.

"I don't know, sir," I said louder, so that only he would hear me. Apparently I was too loud, because the silence in the room was deafening. I looked around to try and find some escape, but I only met the avoiding eyes of my fellow peers. The new kid looked at me with some sympathy, which was a nice change for once. You couldn't even count on your best friend – _that's right, you Melchior Gabor, I'm looking at you_ – to bail you out.

I shouldn't say that actually, because he's helped me on more than one occasion. He's stood up for me when no one else would, and I really did take them to heart. Right then, I couldn't think of a single one. All I thought was, _I'm in the fire pit, again, with no one to douse out the flame._

I looked around again, just in case I had missed my salvation. The new kid – Ernie? No, Ernst! – was still giving me a sympathetic gaze. Did he feel the same way sometimes too? Maybe, but that was enough right now. I was not alone, so I could face it.

I almost wish I didn't look back up at my teacher's face; the anger in his eyes was almost unbearable. In silence, he reached out and grabbed the long ruler. Bracing myself, I closed my eyes and lifted my hands.

The rest of the day passed almost pleasantly. I mean, after Latin, there was arithmetic. And literature. And physical education. And biology. And German history. But besides that, it wasn't too bad.

Who am I kidding? I'm an idiot. I'm a shame.

**BRRRUM-BUM**_._

'_Oh no, please no, not right now_,' I thought.

**Plip**_. _

_Well that's just great_. I lifted my school-bag over my head, trying to block out the water.

**Plop plip**_._

Bloody brilliant.

**Plop pip plop**_._

_I'm a disgrace, trapped in a rainstorm. Well that's just _fan_tastic_.

This sudden weather change somehow reminded me of the tragedy that was my report card.

What was I going to tell my father? He was going to be pissed, one way or another. I bet he would have been mad even if I got straight A's.

"_They're not A-pluses, Moritz. Who do you think you are? What are you doing with your life? It would be better if you just ran away, didn't give me and your mother so much worry."_

Yeah, dad, maybe it would be better if I just –

"Um, excuse me."

"What?" I snarled, wiping away some tears that were falling. Thank god for the rain. I turned, and saw Ernst – was it Ernst? Yes, yes it was – holding an umbrella and looking at me nervously.

"Um, I was wondering if you wanted to share my umbrella with me. We've been walking the same way for awhile now, I don't know if you've noticed. Of course you didn't, I'm practically invisible. But, um, if you wanted to get out of the rain…?" he asked, blushing from embarrassment, I guessed. It was a little funny.

"Yeah, thanks," I replied, my voice softer. I stepped under the umbrella, and we continued walking. Awkwardness seeped into the silence that grew between us.

"Um… I'm Ernst, by the way," he muttered, obviously trying to start a conversation that I so desperately needed.

"I know, you just moved here. I'm Moritz."

"I know. You um… were… noticed by the teachers a lot," he replied, hesitant on my reaction.

"That's putting it nicely," I laughed. The silence resumed pace, but the awkwardness slipped away in the rain. "How was your first day?"

"Ah, better than some I've had." Ernst shifted awkwardly in his coat.

"You've moved around a lot?"

"Yeah, my dad's job and everything. Oh! This is my house. I guess I'll…eh… see you tomorrow?" I could hear a hope in his voice. I don't think his first day was as good as he made it seem.

"Yeah, sure. Do you want to sit at my table at lunch?" I asked. After all, he did spare me most of a walk home in the rain.

"I'd like that," he smiled genuinely, and then walked inside. It was a nice smile, in my opinion.

Surprisingly enough, we didn't live too far from each other. Almost in the same street, in fact. I just lived in a court a few houses down. Finally! Someone I can walk home with! Melchior has Wendla and Ilse, and everyone else, but I think I've gotten a new friend.


End file.
